Jealousy is a Passion
by Mayet
Summary: Another Human Nature/Family of Blood rewrite with Rose. I keep getting ideas to rewrite these episodes in all those delicious ways that torture our poor Doctor. This time, poor John Smith is tortured by dreams about his brother's wife. Wanna know how?
1. Jealousy

_**Jealousy Is A Passion**_

**A/N: It's official now: I'm evil! **

I keep getting ideas to rewrite these episodes in all those delicious ways that torture our poor Doctor's human morality.

And I love every damn minute of it!

**Spoilers:** This is a post Journey's End fic, so there are spoilers up until there.

**Chapter 1: Jealousy **

They came running into the TARDIS. Rose was shoved in first by the half-human Doctor, who quickly followed on her heel. Straight after his companions, his family, the Time Lord stumbled inside. Ducking to avoid the gunfire, he slammed the door shut while his metacrisis was already busying himself with sending their magnificent ship hurtling into the vortex. Rose had to grab on to the railing as the ancient ship shook. Her two Doctors went tumbling to the ground.

No one was laughing this time.

The Doctor got up first. Running around the console, he quietly helped his twin onto his feet before checking out the alien writings on the monitor. The human Doctor looked over his shoulder, paling just as he did. In perfect sync they raised their hands, and shoved them worriedly through their already messed up mobs of hair. Rose looked at them disconcerted. If something worried her Doctors, it couldn't be good.

Not good at all.

"They're following us," the Doctor in brown said glumly.

"But...", Rose protested, "how? We've got a time machine."

"And they've got a vortex manipulator, I'd guess," the Doctor in blue answered. "Probably stolen from a time agent."

"They can sniff out anyone, and me being a Time Lord... I'm unique! They'll follow us everywhere- everywhen. They'll never stop! Unless...", the Time Lord announced in the heavy silence that encompassed them, the note of panic in his voice barely contained. He turned to look at them. His gaze wandered over their faces, back and forth between his twin and his Rose, finally coming to rest on her concerned features. He was by her side in two long, quick steps, catching her face between his hands. His lips crashed onto hers in a chaste, but desperate kiss. "I'll have to do it. I have to stop being a Time Lord, and become human- just long enough for their time to run out."

"Of course!", his twin suddenly cheered. "They'll only live a couple of months, if they don't consume you... But, you'll have to use IT. I never thought I... you... we ever would."

"Use what? What are you talking about? How can you become human? I mean... Is it like regeneration, a Time Lord trick? Can you just change species?"

They exchanged a look, and then the Time Lord pulled a lever. A helmet was lowered from the ceiling. The Doctor in blue grabbed hold of it, and came back with a fob watch in his hand a moment later. He showed this to Rose, and explained their plan. She didn't seem very happy, and neither did them, she noticed. Her brown-clad Doctor told her, they'd program the TARDIS to land somewhere on Earth, for some familiarity. Where or when, would be the ship's choice.

Rose was not appeased.

"We have to do this, Rose. Or they'll hunt us forever, and... if something happened to either one of you because of me, I couldn't live with myself. Please, understand. I'm doing this for you- both of you."

He was still holding her face between his hands, caressing them with his thumbs.

"What about you?", Rose asked the Doctor in blue. "Won't they just go after you?"

"Nah!", he replied, waving her worry away. "My body is mostly human, only my brain chemistry is Time Lord. I might smell a bit funny for an ape, but nothing like him. Nothing like a real Time Lord- not unless I used the chameleon arch to change species as well."

"We could do that?", Rose asked, then looked at the Doctor in brown. "If he could... you'd never have to be alone again." And you... you wouldn't get your senses confused all the time because of your humanity..."

They exchanged another look.

"There's a catch, right," she realized. "Oh, of course, there's always a catch. What is it this time?"

"Well... Rewriting your entire biology... Let's just say, it's not the nicest experience," they answered in unison, both shuffling their feet in exactly the same way. And no matter how much they tried to convince her that it was alright, she still pleaded with him not to do it, to find another way. A way that wouldn't hurt him. Her Time Lord tried to kiss her worries away furiously, but her soul would not find peace.

She buried her head in the human Doctor's chest when the procedure began.

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Two months later, he woke from this strange dream with a start. The aftershocks of his dream rippling the air around him, bringing forth visions of familiar, and unknown faces. Staying put for a moment, he let his eyes adjust to the relative darkness of the early morning; the curtains still closed tightly in front of the windows. He raised a hand to rub his face then, forcing the sleepiness out of his body. A groan emerged from his lips still as he raised himself into a sitting position. Lifting the covers, and swinging his feet over the edge of the bed, he stood, shivering in the cold room. He quickly grabbed his robe, and put it on over his white-and-blue pinstriped pyjamas. He tightened the knot, just as someone knocked on his door.

"Come in!", he called.

The door opened to reveal a tall man, carrying a tray in his hands. The man was smiling cheerily, his brown eyes sparkling under a mess of uncombed brown hair, as if he'd just gotten out of bed himself. Or as if he had done very naughty things in bed. With his wife. His beautiful, dazzling, ever charming brunette wife. Shaking his head clear of that inappropriate notion, he welcomed his twin brother, and helped him set down the enormous amount of food, he'd been carrying around with him. Then he walked around his desk to sit down right opposite his brother.

"Good morning, James," he said, smiling as his brother filled all three cups with tea.

"Mornin', John. Rose will be here any moment. It takes her a bit longer to get dressed in all those skirts. You know how it is," James replied cheerfully.

No, John Smith almost said, I don't know. After all, he did not have such a wonderful wife like his little brother. But that comment would have been inappropriate, and Professor John Smith was nothing if not a proper gentleman as could be expected of someone with his upbringing. Then again, James, who worked as a librarian in the same school as John, had grown up in the same household, and had still become quite unruly for a man of his position. And yet, John could not help but think that his dear brother had achieved more than him in the end.

Much more.

He had earned the love of a beautiful young lady. A good and cultured woman who always looked at him with such devotion in her eyes, and barely ever looked at another man- barely even looked at him. James had proposed to her, and soon after they were married in a charming, small ceremony.

"I hope you left something for me!", chimed a woman's voice from the door. There she stood, her hair still undone, golden and glimmering in the morning light, wearing the same simple blue dress and white apron as the school's matron. Upon arriving, she had insisted to do something useful to help with the school's affairs, so the headmaster had been so kind to allow her to help the matron in keeping the boys healthy. He admired her for that.

Both men looked up, and John stood as she quietly entered his study, and closed the door behind her. He threw an annoyed glance at his brother, who would not give such courtesy to his own wife. Rose did not seem to mind as she approached them. She reached John first, and hugged him to her softly. This was not how a woman should behave towards her brother-in-law, but James never said anything, nor did he appear bothered, and John enjoyed this fleeting contact with her warm, soft body too much to do something about it himself. Still, he always hesitated in closing his own arms around her.

Even after over two months of this daily routine.

And still, she would not look at him.

"Oh, John, how many times must I say this. Please be yourself around me!", she chided him once again. Her mocking voice took the bite out of her words, and yet he could not help the heat arise to colour his cheeks. "You might as well imagine me to be another gentleman, if that eases your discomfort."

Shocked by her proposal, he could only gape at her for a minute while his brother broke out into very unmanly giggles.

"N...no, that, I-I fear, is n-not in my power to d-do," he stammered helplessly entrances by her cheeky smile that had her tongue poking out of the side of her mouth.

With a sigh, and a shake of her head, Rose moved on to his brother. A hand caressed James' cheek as he kept his eyes closed to enjoy the tender touch. Then Rose leaned down to kiss him lightly but without haste. John turned his head away, partly to give his brother and his sister-in-law some privacy, and partly because he was ashamed of the vile humours this proof of their love unleashed inside him. Watching them reminded him of what he had yet to achieve, and of how much he would like to be in his brother's place...

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All throughout his lecture his head had been elsewhere. In his study, to be precise, having breakfast with a beautiful brunette... and her husband, who also happened to be his brother. Why must he lust after his brother's woman? Sure, she was beautiful with her light brown hair, and sparkling hazel eyes, her rosy lips that fitted her name so well, and that pearly skin. But she was also his brother's bloody wife! Why was she causing him such passions? During the day she haunted his every breath, seemed to lurk around every metaphorical corner of his thoughts, and even at night he would not be at peace from her. Frequently, she starred in his dreams lately, at first alone- running together, holding hands, hugging and laughing. Lately, though, his brother appeared holding her other hand as she laid between them on their huge, soft bed with it's sinful red sheets, naked as the Lord made them. And tangled up together with their various limbs all over each other, their eyes still hazy in the aftermath of what must have been a very intense bout of...

"Enough!", he ordered himself quietly as his imagination ran away with him.

Without even noticing, he had dismissed the class, and was now carrying a stack of books towards the library. He could not see anything beyond his pile, and walked down the hall, trusting the students to avoid running into him. A door suddenly opened, and a shriek could be heard, and then some laughing, and a quiet reprimand. By this time, John had already dropped the books, cursed silently, and knelled to pick them back up. Soon enough, two more figures could be found kneeling on the floor as they helped gathering his equipment. Looking up for the first time, he realized them to be Matron Redfern, and his Rose- no, not his, his brother's wife, Rose.

"Oh, thank you, ladies."

"My pleasure, Professor Smith," the Matron replied smilingly.

"Our pleasure," Rose insisted.

Matron Redfern blushed.

"Oh, of course, my dear. Of course. I do apologize."

It didn't sound very sincere, blush or no blush. They stood, and Rose grabbed some more of his books, insisting that the journey through the school would be easier if he saw where he was going. The Matron kindly offered to take a few books as well, but John was mesmerized by the warmth in Rose's eyes, and the depth of the emotion in them. He cast his eyes down, and his gaze inadvertently fell upon her pink lips, which were curved upwards into a gentle smile. Oh, how he'd like to kiss those lips, to feel their soft texture against his mouth, or nibbling on his earlobe as she had done in so many of his dreams...

"...it's just you and me, I'd much rather you'd call me Nurse Redfern. Matron sound so... well, matronly."

He came back to reality with a start once more, and realized that they'd almost reached the staircase. The Matron's words registered a moment later, just as she suggested he call her by her given name, Joan, and then the topic of their one-sided conversation jumped on to the village dance held the day after tomorrow. He could not help but notice that this rude woman would not acknowledge Rose's presence. He risked a glance at the young woman, and found her staring at her feet, apparently disappointed about something. And maybe she was angered by that woman's crude manners.

No, she seemed to have the same look he often saw in the mirror when thinking about his brother and her...

"Do you think you'll go?"

"Hmm?..." The village dance. Right. "Oh, I don't... know. I hadn't... thought about it."

"It's been ages since I've been to a dance. Only, no one's asked me."

"Well…I should imagine that you'd be…I mean, I-I-I never thought you'd be one for…If you do! You may not. I-I probably won't. But even if I did, I couldn't… I mean..."

"Actually," a soft voice came to his aid from the background, "I had hoped John would accompany me. James is not one for such festivities, and I could not go alone, obviously, but I wouldn't want to miss it. James had wanted to ask you, if that was all right, apparently, he forgot."

She had turned to him now, smiling wickedly, and winking at him.

"No, no, he did. I must have forgotten in all this confusion, and the boys starting to get sick at the beginning of the cold season. I am terribly sorry, Ma... Joan, but I'm a man of my word."

"Oh, I see. Of course you must..."

Apparently, Joan had given up. Thank the Lord for little wonders.

"Yes, well... we should really...", he was saying as he started moving again.

"The stairs!", Rose panicked voice interrupted him.

"What?"

"The stairs! They're right..."

She had pointed over his shoulder but he was already tumbling down the unrelentingly hard, wooden staircase, books being ripped from his hands and flying everywhere. As the world finally stopped spinning, his eyes sought out Rose's without being asked. A cold hand seemed to grip his heart when he saw the desperate worry on her pretty face. She was running down the stairs, jumping over books, and running around his stretched out form to get a hold of his head. Carefully, she lifted it onto her lap, stroking her fingers through his hair as tenderly as she had touched his brother's cheek that morning, and thereby sending him back to those warm, sweaty sheets in the dimly lid bedroom of the three of them. His eyes never leaving hers, he lifted his hand, and, instinctively it seemed, she grabbed hold of it, lacing their fingers together, squeezing reassuringly.

Then his world went black.

**End of chapter 1!**

**A/N: I decided to start out soft for the first chapter. I'm not sure how many will follow, but I'm pretty sure we'll get to a point where this fic deserves it's high read and review!  
**


	2. Fantasy

_**Jealousy Is A Passion**_

**Spoilers:** This is a post Journey's End fic, so there are spoilers up until there.

**Chapter 2: Fantasy**

He came back to his senses sitting in a chair in his study. Thin, female fingers were massaging his scalp, stroking through his hair. Closing his eyes, he enjoyed the feeling of Rose's hands on him in such a soft caress. She must have been really worried, if she was still doting on him now. He could feel her combing through his hair, making it as messy as it was in the morning, every morning. He just wished her hands would be the reason that his hair was dishevelled when he got out of bed. He could just imagine how she would run her fingers through his locks in the sweet heat of the night, as their bodies moved together to climb up that mountain hand in hand. Could see her abandon all appearances of propriety as she reached that peak, and fell into the sticky darkness, a fine sheet of sweat and the seedy aroma of her sex, and his own body the only things to cover her. Could feel her grab hold of his unruly mane as he plunged his tongue between the soft folds of her-

"You don't seem to have a concussion, John," a familiar voice interrupted his impure thoughts. "But you should rest for a while, just to be certain that there is no further injury."

He startled. That was not Rose's voice.

"Ma... Mat... Joan!", he stammered, flushing a bright scarlet as he realized that he had just been having another one of his fantasies about his brother's beautiful wife while the school's head nurse had checked him for cerebral damage. Maybe she should look some more. She'd call a psychiatrist if she knew what had been going on in his head, while she had been caring for his health.

Or a priest to vanquish his demons...

"Would you be needing anything else from me?", she asked him with a small smile.

Something inside his trousers definitely 'needed' something. A very cold shower. Or a warm, soft, feminine hand... He shook his head lightly to get rid of those thoughts but they would not leave him. This meant that he had to make her leave quickly before she noticed something. He didn't want to scandalize her- or encourage her- nor could he allow such a unfortunate accident to ruin his reputation in the school or the village.

Or with his family...

"No, thank you, Joan. You've done a terrific job. It doesn't hurt a bit,"he told her with sincerity, even though his voice must have sounded a little pressed. He had swung one leg over the other to cover up his... well, his state, and the pressure was making it heard not to groan in something between pleasure and pain. Thus he was more than grateful when Joan took his compliment without objections, and a nice little curtsey, and disappeared through the door. The moment the door clicked shut, John Smith jumped up, disregarding his jacket, and unbuttoning his west, and shirt before letting them fall to the ground too.

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'James', of course, had laughed for a couple of minutes there, once she'd delivered the books- like the matron had asked, that stupid cow- and told him what had just transpired one floor up. She wasn't sure whether he was laughing about the accident- although, she didn't take him to be that sadistically inclined towards the other Him- or about Joan's amorous ambitions towards his now completely human twin which she didn't find amusing at all, thank you very much. All she knew, was that she needed to get back to him before anything else could happen to the Doctor; or something could happen with Joan! That, and that the students were starting to get scared by the time the giggles of the half-human Doctor finally subsided. She scowled at him once more, and, with a clearing of his throat, he turned one hundred percent serious again.

"Don't worry, she isn't his type."

"How do you know? He's human now," she whispered back. "And he didn't put that on the list of things to look out for. What if she is his type? What if he falls in love while he's human? Oh, why didn't he think of something to do, should this situation arise?"

The other Doctor chuckled.

"He didn't think of it, because he's already head over heels for you. We both are, as you very well know. And, as for John Smith... Haven't you seen how he looks at you? Honestly, my dear 'brother' wants to shag my wife rotten if those looks are anything to go by. But he thinks like a man from this time, so no fun for him. Poor bastard."

Rose gasped as 'James' scoffed. Then he gestured towards the tray with his afternoon tea, saying that his twin needed it more than him, and sent her on her merry way. But not before pulling her behind a shelf in a dark corner of the library( somewhere near maths, where no one ever came to look for a book), shoving her up against it, and snogging her senseless. He went so far as to let one of his hands wander up to her breast, and knead it- just once, but that was more than enough to have her moan into his mouth, and buck her hips against his.

He let go of her.

"Later...", he promised huskily.

"I wish," she answered a little disappointed.

Then she straightened out her dress with a sad little smile, and kissed him one last time, before taking the tray back upstairs towards John Smith' study. She was just about to reach the staircase when she observed the Matron walk down it with an all too satisfied smile on her lips. Both women stopped dead in their tracks as they looked at each other, then the Matron's eyes drifted downwards to the tray in Rose's hand.

"I brought John some tea," Rose explained quietly. "James thought, it might help him."

"Hmm. Yes, well... If you don't mind me saying-"

"What if I do?", Rose asked, but the Matron continued as if she hadn't heard.

"You do seem a little too familiar with him at times," she mused aloud. "Perhaps you get confused. It is understandable. You're young, and they look much alike... but... Best not to forget that you already have a husband, John's brother no less."

"Which makes John _my _brother, and I shall care for my family as I damn well please. Thank you for your concern, Matron Redfern," Rose replied icily before walking straight up the stairs.

The Matron scoffed.

"You must be the most insolent, young lady I have ever had the displeasure to meet."

That's how the war began.

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The icy spray of the shower had him yelp at the first contact, and shivering from then on out. It hit his shoulders like a liquid snowstorm, running over his broad chest, his back, his ass, and thighs, and along his legs. His arms were crossed over his chest in a vain attempt to retain a little bit of warmth. His head was placed against the cool tile, his eyes closed as he tried to think of the most mundane things he could possibly bore his mind with, and tear it away from where his imagination was working overtime.

The Napoleonic Wars ended when...

_...the soft pressure of her hand in his..._

Columbus had been trying to sail to India over a west route when he had...

_...her knees parted, and his head buried between them..._

Ramses destroyed Syria...

_...oh, but her soft lips pressed against his as he kissed her ferociously..._

The Third Reich was supposed to last 1000 years- hold on, what Third Reich? That never happened!

_The breathy noises leaving her mouth as he made love to her in his bed, or on his desk, in this very shower..._

He groaned in annoyance. There seemed to be no way to rid himself of these foul ideas, none that would leave his honour intact at least. With another groan, he gave in. Quickly shutting the spray of water, he dried himself a bit, and leaned his full weight against the tiles. Leaning back, he let his eyes drift close, and unleashed his imagination. A moment later, his mind conjured up the first flutters of touch she supposedly bestowed upon him.

On his shoulder.

He could feel her finger gliding over it, up to his cheek. He snuggled a bit more into the imaginary touch. Her thumb was drawing circles over his stubble. Then her hand followed the outline of his ear, jokingly pinching his earlobe. He had to chuckle. When he thought he could feel her thumb on his lower lip all laughter left him. He opened his lips, and sucked on the digit. He knew somewhere in the recesses of his mind that it was his own finger he was pleasuring, and yet he could still hear her moan at every soft caress of his tongue. A second finger slid into his warm orifice, and he greedily licked at it.

A quiet moan could not be contained, and the digits fell from his lips onto his chest. Leaving wet traces all over it as he puffed out his chest, seeking more contact. Those fingernails that were not his- never his- scratched over his right nipple, eliciting a yelp of pain and pleasure, and a twitch in his nether regions. Slowly, tantalizingly gliding over to the other nipple, it was pinched and twisting and played with by two fingers that had him grunting with barely restrained lust. He bucked his hips involuntarily, hitting nothing but air. He turned quickly, so he could press them into the cold tiles, so he could at least get some relief- even if that action tortured him a little bit more in the end.

He imagined pressing her soft, pliable body to his rigid one, imagined how she would moan at the contact of heated skin; her soft curves against his hard muscles. His hand would seek out her breast, and engulf it, squeezing it tight but not painfully so. His index finger would play with her rosy areola, while his mouth would lick, and nibble on the other one. She would melt in his arms, melt into a needy, feminine puddle. Her hands would grab onto his shoulders in their search for something so support them. Then his mouth would crash on hers, swallow her moans as his hand- the one that was not pressed into her back, holding her upright- would wander over her knee to caress the inside of her thigh. It would wander higher and higher until it would almost be where she wanted it, then it would stray southwards again. Leaving her to groan in disappointment. Until, in one swift motion, the flat of his hand would cup her, feeling her wetness, pressing against her sweet pearl. She would rub herself against his hand in lust. Spread her legs farther, so that a single finger of his could slide inside her, probing her. She would not be a virgin, being a married woman, but she would still be tight as a second finger stretched her further.

She would enhance her movements, probably encircling his waist with her legs, and buck against his hand, impaling herself as he finger-fucked her. She would whimper when he would move his hand away. He would press her against the wall with his entire lean body, and make her look at him as he licked his fingers clean of her juices. Maybe he would even offer her one, so she could taste herself on his skin. In any case would he kiss her then, hungrily. His tongue would invade her mouth, and carry her taste with it, and she would suck on his tongue greedily. His hand would drift downwards again to grab hold of his cock, rubbing the tip against her wet entrance. She would rip her mouth away from his to groan louder than ever before, and he would use the opportunity to leave his little marks on her neck. He would be sucking and biting on her skin just as he entered her in one powerful thrust. Then he would set a steady rhythm of hard, deep strokes, and his hand between their bodies would rub her little jewel without mercy until she would come undone around him. After she would come down from her delicious high, he would let his passion run away with him, losing the rhythm and control of his strokes. Overstimulating her senses he would come deep inside of her, just as she would fall over that cliff again.

He could feel himself coming now, but to the almost brutal caresses of his own hand as the other squeezed his balls to the point of pain. Not to the warmth of her body.

"Rose," he could not help but moan as the final images of his fantasy played out in front of him.

A squeak broke him out of his little dream world in the end. His eyes snapped open, all his senses came back to him. He knew that squeak, or at least the voice it belonged to. He hastily grabbed his bathrobe, and hurried out into his study. Near the coffee table stood his very flushed sister-in-law, unable to meet his mortified gaze. He moved closer, in case she would faint in the next few moments, and because he wanted to look into her eyes when he apologized for his impossible behaviour.

She didn't run screaming. That was a good sign, right?

"Rose, I... I'm so..."

"Sorry?", she asked, giggling nervously.

"Uhm.. yes...", he said, rubbing his neck in embarrassment.

They just stood there for a moment, trying to find something to say. She was looking at him, at his bow tie at least, and her cheeks had taken on a more natural tone again, although they were still a bit pink. Not that his very any better. He had probably blushed bright scarlet once again. Their gazes met, and John couldn't help the guilty shiver that went down his spine. Neither could he stop himself from leaning in, halting his movements only when his lips were less than an inch away from hers. Her look fell on them for a moment, then she looked up again with such longing in her eyes. She was biting her lip, obviously contemplating on what to do. He took the decision out of her hands, and crossed the distance until their lips were locked. The kiss was nothing more than a soft pressure at first but when she did not flinch, or move away, he opened his lips a bit to deepen the kiss. Rose followed his example with a moan, and soon his tongue had slipped into her warm orifice. His hands encircled her upper arms, and pulled her into his body. When her delicate, cloth-covered flesh touched his lean frame, she groaned and bit his lip passionately. One hand went into her hair, just as a series of soft knocks sounded on the door...

**End of chapter 2!**

**A/N: Oh, bad Johnny, bad, naughty Johnny.**** Bit hot, though, or is it just me?**


	3. Treachery

_**Jealousy Is A Passion**_

**Spoilers:** This is a post Journey's End fic, so there are spoilers up until there.

**Apology: **Sorry it took so long. in my defence, aside from planning to move to a different city and working shifts at a shop, I had this whoile chapter nicely planned out when YamiNoTomoyo suggested all these intriguing ideas, and I had to try them all on for size. :) Thank you for those by the way. In the end, I decided to stick with my plan, but I might come back to them for future chapters, if I may.

**Chapter ****3: Treachery**

"Rose," he could not help but moan as the final images of his fantasy played out in front of him.

A squeak broke him out of his little dream world in the end. His eyes snapped open, all his senses came back to him. He knew that squeak, or at least the voice it belonged to. He hastily grabbed his bathrobe, and hurried out into his study. Near the coffee table stood his very flushed sister-in-law, unable to meet his mortified gaze. He moved closer, in case she would faint in the next few moments, and because he wanted to look into her eyes when he apologized for his impossible behaviour.

She didn't run screaming. That was a good sign, right?

"Rose, I... I'm so..."

"Sorry?", she asked, giggling nervously.

"Uhm.. yes...", he said, rubbing his neck in embarrassment.

They just stood there for a moment, trying to find something to say. She was looking at him, at his bow tie at least, and her cheeks had taken on a more natural tone again, although they were still a bit pink. Not that his were doing any better. He had probably blushed bright scarlet once again. Their gazes met, and John couldn't help the guilty shiver that went down his spine. Neither could he stop himself from leaning in, halting his movements only when his lips were less than an inch away from hers. Her look fell on them for a moment, then she looked up again with such longing in her eyes. She was biting her lip, obviously contemplating on what to do. He took the decision out of her hands, and crossed the distance until their lips were locked. The kiss was nothing more than a soft pressure at first but when she did not flinch, or move away, he opened his lips a bit to deepen the kiss. Rose followed his example with a moan, and soon his tongue had slipped into her warm orifice. His hands encircled her upper arms, and pulled her into his body. When her delicate, cloth-covered flesh touched his lean frame, she groaned and bit his lip passionately. One hand went into her hair, just as a series of soft knocks sounded on the door...

"Professor Smith?", a voice reached them from the other side. The Headmaster! Quickly disentangling, Rose went back to the tray, and started to pour tea into a mug. Meanwhile, John had barely enough time to straighten out his bathrobe before the Headmaster entered his study. "I heard that you fell, and... and..."

He did not finish the sentence, once he caught sight of the entire scene before him. John Smith panicked slightly as he noticed Rose's still dishevelled hair, and the trembling of her hands. What must it look like, with him only clad in his robe, and probably flushing up to his ears. He could probably compete with a tomato for it's colour by now!

"What is going on here?"

"Headmaster... I can explain...", John started, faltering almost immediately when the man's irate, suspicious gaze fell upon him.

"John fell down the stairs, and hit his head, sir," Rose spoke up calmly, apparently in complete control of herself once more. "I thought I'd bring him some tea for the headache. When no one answered the door, I thought he was resting. I did not realize he had been taking a shower."

"And what of your dishevelled state, Mrs. Smith?", the Headmaster inquired, voice triumphant.

Rose flushed bright scarlet, and John thought it was over.

"Oh...", she breathed. "I'm afraid I ran into James on my way here, sir..."

She left the phrase open for interpretation but there was no lie evident on her face. A surge of jealousy made it's way up John's throat but he clamped down on it viciously. This titbit of truth would save them from scandal, just as long as his stupid male competitiveness with his own brother wouldn't blow them both to hell. Still, he could not entirely quench his thirst for... for what exactly? For Her, definitely. To take her from his brother's side. To paint on James face the same expression, his own inner demon was wearing now; of jealousy and rage. Nor could he ignore the sting at her words, at knowing she'd been with his brother- like she should be- again.

"Oh..."

Now it was the Headmaster's turn to redden. He caught himself soon enough, though.

"Well, I would suggest keeping such... activities... in the privacy of your own quarters!", he scolded her firmly. "And, now, I think, you should leave Mr. Smith to get dressed, Mrs. Smith."

She curtseyed, but John could see her roll her eyes at the order. She mumbled something akin to 'nothing I haven't seen before' as she exited the study, the Headmaster following after her at a decent distance, bristling at the words he had heard as well. Left alone, John stood completely still for a few moments, trying to slow down his racing heartbeat. He lifted a hand to the other side of his chest, wondering if he really did have another heart there that he could make responsible for what he had just done. Coming up empty, he had no one to blame but himself. The good Professor didn't know, whether that was a good thing or not. He didn't know, who he wanted to be.

On one side, there was John Smith, upstanding citizen, loyal subject to the crown, and madly, irresponsibly attracted to his brother's wife.

On the other side, there was the Doctor, traveller in time and space, the Lonely God, although, maybe not quite so lonely any more- not since he had his other self, and his beautiful Rose to share his life, and his bed with.

Which one was he? Which one did he want to be? And why did he have this nagging feeling that one would have to die for the other to live?

Which one would he kill?

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The same second she closed the door to the room she shared with James behind her, she leaned against it, slowly sinking down onto the cold floor. What had gotten into her? Had she kissed the Doctor or John Smith? Why had she kissed him at all? Back, that is. For he had kissed her first, had breached those traitorous inches between their lips, and engulfed her in the weight of his rising passion. Whatever had made him do that, whatever had made him want her; whether it was one last remnant of his Time Lord self or a simple spark of brotherly rivalry, she should have given him a head of steam. Should have protested, should have never let it happen. He was her brother-in-law. For the time being there could not be any other relation between them. For his own safety- be that from the Family of Blood or the moral displeasure of the local population.

Someone tried to open the door. Rose went stiff. What if it was John? What if he came to finish what they had started? She shook her head. No. No. He would have come to apologize if anything.

"Rose?", asked his deep soothing voice.

"This isn't the best time," she managed to get out between clenched teeth. She couldn't trust herself not to snog him senseless if she were to have to face him now.

"Darling, what's wrong? Did something happen?"

"I said, not n...Hold on. James?" she asked, just to be sure, although it couldn't have been anyone but him, calling her darling. John Smith surely never would while someone could overhear it.

"Yes. You going to let me in now?", he shot back, a little confused at her surprise.

She rushed away from the door, and then as soon as it had opened, lunged into his arms with a relieved sob. James was so surprised, he stumbled back, and hit the door frame. Grunting in pain, he realized that Rose's face was pressed against his chest, and her hands which were desperately clutching at his jacket were trembling. Responding out of instinct, the ancient instinct to protect and comfort his mate, he wrapped his arms around her reassuringly. Stroking her back, he spoke softly to her, and kissed the top of her head. Rocking, he manoeuvred them over to their bed, the sheets they'd left in utter disarray that morning having been neatly made. He sat them down carefully, and, placing his hand on her cheek, made her look at him.

"What happened? Did the headmaster say something to you? Or is it the Matron again? Is she trying to wrap him around her little finger again?"

A nervous laugh escaped her throat.

"I don't think we have to worry about her at all," she murmured.

"Huh?"

"He kissed me, James."

"Oh."

"Yeah. And I kissed him back."

"_Oh_."

"Yeah. And then the headmaster came in."

"Ah!"

"Yeah. Thank god he knocked."

After a moment of awkward silence, James dissolved into fits of laughter, with Rose playfully hitting him on the arm, telling him this wasn't funny in the least. That only served to make her supposed husband laugh harder. He laughed so hard, he almost choked on his own amusement. With the last giggle finally subsiding after a few minutes, he managed to gulf in some much needed air. Then, without further ado, he grabbed her had, and kissed her longingly on the mouth.

"It would seem you make all the doctors go crazy, darling. Even when they aren't doctors any more."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Think about it. Professor John Smith, teacher at an all boys school in 1913, goes lusting after his twin brother's wife, and grabs her for a quick snog. What would have happened if the headmaster hadn't appeared when he did? I guess I have to thank him later."

He kissed her again.

"Yeah, about that..." she interrupted. "Uhm... I might've had to... uh...tell him about our little adventure earlier..."

James' face contorted in shock and dismay.

"Well, what did you do that for?"

"He was onto me and John. What was I supposed to do?"

"Well, not that!"

"...Well, I could make it up to you...", Rose whispered suggestively as she leaned close to his ear. Licking the outer shell.

"Oh..."

Nibbling her way down his jaw.

"Yeah."

And words were no more once she reached his mouth, and started sucking on his lower lip. When he responded, he did so instantly and violently. He didn't just open his lips for her, he literally sucked her in. Pushing his way past her teeth, his tongue explored her warm orifice for a while before it got bored, and decided to go in search of new territories to invade. Nibbling and biting and sucking and licking, his mouth travelled down her throat. Nimble hands found the buttons of her dress and undid them one after another in quick succession. His lips followed the path of his hands as they cupped her exposed breasts. He lay her down on the mattress, and went to work, laving one of rosy buds with his tongue as she writhed beneath him.

Arching her back Rose offered him her chest, trying to get closer to the intoxicating feeling of his tongue on her naked skin. She could feel him grin against her breast as his hand made it's way further down her body to slip in between her legs. He wasted no time in burying two long fingers in her already dripping core. In and out, in and out he stroked her slowly, but powerfully. Nudging her clit with his thumbs while he fingered her earned him her full cooperation. Restlessly, she shifted to get closer to him, bucking against his hand as she slowly lost herself to the pleasure he gave her, and when he added a third finger into the mix, she lost her rhythm and exploded.

When she opened her eyes, he was still watching her. Such a loving gaze. And then she became suddenly aware of the subtle movements of his hips against her thigh. She could feel the hardness of his member through his trousers and the fabric of her unbuttoned dress. He didn't even seem aware of the fact that he had yet to reach completion. He looked at her with such a loving gaze...

She reached for him but he intercepted her hand, shaking his head.

"Why not?"

"'Cause then we're not leaving this bed for a while, and it's dinner time."

Rose pouted.

"I don't want to go." I don't want to face John, she was really saying.

"Then don't. I'll tell them you're not feeling to well," he offered, then grinned. "And like any good husband, I'll claim to hope that it's because you're carrying my child."

Rose looked at him seriously.

"You're doing this just to torture John, aren't you?"

He didn't even deny it, the cheeky bastard. Instead he grinned even more.

"You'd rather go down there, and face him yourself?"

"Noooooo!" she cried, laying back down, giving up.

"So stay here, in bed, and wait for my return," he told her, wiggling his eyebrows as she hit him again, then bent down to kiss her one more time.

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"Sir?", came the timid voice of one of his students-what was his name again? Latin, Latier...Latimer, that was it.

"Yes? T...Timothy?"

The small boy fully entered his study now, and came to stand in front of him. He had short brown hair that seemed to defy the art of combing, and dark, intelligent eyes. His face was pale, and his lips drawn in a thin line, and there was a prick of guilt in John's heart. He remembered how he had given Baines and his croonies permission to castigate him after he'd spoken out against the war.

The look of horror in Rose's eyes... He shook himself. Now was not the time.

"Was there something that you wanted?"

"The headmaster told me to ask you if you would join us for dinner, sir."

"Oh. Right. Yes, of course. Wouldn't miss it for the world..." He was babbling again. "Anyway. Speaking of... You have a bright mind, Latimer, but I don't think you're using it to it's full capacity."

"Sir?"

"You're too distracted. Sometimes I doubt you're even in the same room with us."

"Yes, sir."

"Well then, let's not make the others wait. On your way, Mr. Latimer." And with that, he strode out the door.

Timothy remained standing where he was for another moment, wondering at the strange mood swings his teacher sometimes had. At times he seemed to be an entirely different person. One minute, the serious Professor of history at a respected school, and the next, a strange, wise being who had travelled far and wide before finding them in their little town in the countryside. With furrowed brows, he made for the door when a whisper caught his attention...

_'Keep me safe. Keep me hidden.'_

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Dinner was, as always, a boring succession of dusty formalities. Conversations expectedly circled around the fight against the 'savage' people on the black continent, and he could see his brother had to bite on his tongue not to give them all a piece of his mind on the subject. Poor James, he had always been too much of an idealist in John's mind. His brother had always seemed too delicate to handle this cold and cruel world he had been born into. Yet he had managed to find a dutiful, loving wife who he had hopes was pregnant with a son of his own. Twins like them perhaps, James had suggested jokingly, looking at him from the other side of the table, and for a moment John had been sure that his brother was gauging his reaction.

It made sense, of course, having witnessed his brother's and Rose's 'greeting' at the door to their room. Rose had been distraught over what had happened, no doubt. Something had to be said for her... her what? Her bravery? Her love? Her devotion, perhaps? Whatever it was, it only served to make her even more impressive and desirable in John's eyes. To tell her husband of the committed infidelity...

He should be happy for them. Happy for his brother that he found something so precious. Such a noble woman. A jewel in a world made of rocks. An oasis in the desert. A lady amongst... housemaids.

But he could not.

He could not help but be jealous of his brother's happiness. Could not help but wanting to be in his place. Could not help feeling overjoyed that Rose seemed to somewhat return his feelings, even though it had brought her pain. For she had known who she was kissing this afternoon. She had known who she was holding onto.

And it had been him. Not his brother.

He revelled in that knowledge.

"Something amusing, Smith?" a voice asked from the side. He had gone into his own room to enjoy one last cup of tea, once dinner was over. He had not expected the headmaster to follow him. Without knocking. Hastily turning around coming face to face with an amused James.

John glared at his brother for the deception.

"Oh, you are..."

"Good? Yeah, thank you. Care to share?", James asked with a motion towards the tea. John shook his head, knowing what was coming. The talk. His brother wanted to talk, reprimand him more likely, about what happened between him and Rose. He couldn't blame him. John would react no different, had it been his wife's honour that had been besmirched in such a manner.

He poured his brother a coup of tea.

"Nice night, isn't it?" James didn't wait for him to answer. "Bit cold, though. Bit _lonely_."

John didn't miss the special emphasis James put into that last word. And from then on everything went downwards.

**End of chapter 3!**

**A/N: Wow, another chapter done, and it seems our favourite trio is getting closer and closer to the breaking point. What do you say?**


	4. Anomaly

_**Jealousy Is A Passion**_

**A/N: It's official now: I'm evil! **

I keep getting ideas to rewrite these episodes in all those delicious ways that torture our poor Doctor's human morality.

And I love every damn minute of it!

**Spoilers:** This is a post Journey's End fic, so there are spoilers up until there.

**Warning:** If you're into religion, you might want to stay clear of this chapter.

**Chapter4: Anomaly**

"Hey, old girl, how are you doing?", she murmured softly as her hand touch the dimly glowing column. Rose had slipped away to the ancient time machine while everybody was enjoying dinner. Most of all, James who'd found an excellent way to torment his 'big brother'. Poor John Smith. Rose quickly shook her head, and purged any and all thought of the Doctor's human self from her mind. She didn't want to think about him or what had happened earlier that day. It would only serve to make her long for more. She missed the Doctor so much but his human self was just so sweet, it was hard not to like him- to love him.

How much harder must it be for James, she thought. Both her Doctors shared a telepathic link, back when he was still a Time Lord. The Doctor had lost that link once already on the day his people died, on the day he had had to kill them all for the sake of every other living thing in the universe. The other Doctor shared that memory, and that pain. To loose all that a second time...

Rose could not imagine what James must be going through. At least, John Smith didn't remember the connection, the feeling of being so close to the other him, so he couldn't miss it. And yet he had those extraordinary dreams of their adventures. Just enough residual energy to let them in, her arse. The Doctors, as usual, had completely underestimated the potential drama of the situation, and now Rose was stuck between her own deep passion for the Doctors and a man who seemed to be falling in love with her all over again.

"How am I going to do this, old girl?"

There was no answer. Only the dark silence of the powered-down spaceship. Not that she'd expected any different. The TARDIS needed to be on emergency power, so that the Family could not follow them to this place. Once they'd died away waiting to find a trace of them, they'd open the watch and the three of them would leave this place to go back to their 'jet-set life'. Still, Rose wished the TARDIS could help her. Huffing, she sat down on the captain's chair, not knowing what to do with herself there but not wanting to go back just yet.

Without further ado, the monitor sprang to life.

"Is this thing working?", the Doctor on-screen asked.

"Yes, 'course it is. I may have a human body but my mind is absolutely, completely, one-hundred percent Time Lord, I'll have you know. So stop treating me like some stupid ape!"

"...Sorry."

"Yeah."

"'Scuse me? You calling me a stupid ape, or something?", Rose could hear her own voice from somewhere behind the camera. Even as she watched the tape, she still found herself giggling at how white the Doctor could turn in a few seconds. She distinctly remembered the other Doctor to turn around in horror, squeaking...

"No", in that high-pitched voice, he'd usually gotten only near her mum.

"Uhm, anyway..." the Time Lord cleared his throat. "Back to business, as they say. So, here's a couple of instructions for when I'm human... too."

"OI! Part human here!"

"Nothing wrong with being human, you know."

"Yeah, so... One: don't let me hurt anyone. We can't have that, but you know what humans are like... err, present company excluded, of course...

Two: don't worry about the TARDIS. I'll put her on emergency power, so they can't detect her. Just let her hide away… but of course, you know that, err...

Four, no…Three…No getting involved in big historical events…

Four, very important…Four. You two, don't let me abandon you…"

"As if. You didn't manage to get rid of me... how many times now?", Rose heard herself laughing in the background. She could see the Doctor smile at her. Then he turned back to the scrren with a deadly serious expression, and Rose felt herself smile at what was coming next.

"And Five. Even more important, well, almost… Five, don't let me eat pears. I hate pears! John Smith is a character I made up, but I won't know that. I'll think I am him, and he might do something stupid like eat a pear. Now, in three months, I don't want to wake up from being human with that taste in my mouth."

"Yeah, yeah. 'Nuff said about the pears, already. We heard you the first time, you whimp. And the second time, and, oh I know, I'll stuff you with pears while you're human, and..."

"OI!"

"Sorry, sorry. I can't help it, though. It's the Donna part in me, it's compelling. These things just come out of my mouth before I've even registered I'm talking."

The Doctor kept his glare for another second, before going back to his instructions. Rose, however, was not watching any more. Something had caught her eye as she'd rolled them at the Doctors' argument. She had noticed a tiny flickering light to her left side. Getting up, she approached it carefully. The old girl was not supposed to be blinking, was she? As she stood over the little light-bulb, her eyes widened in horror, a hand flew to her mouth to stiffle the escaping gasp, and she ran outside all in the same motion. She raised her eyes to the sky just in time to see a meteorite flashing green across the sky and seemingly coming down in the woods.

She ran back to the monitor, breathing heavily, just in time to watch the Doctor give his final instruction:

"And twenty-three: If something happens... if they find us, you know what to do. Open the watch. Release me. Open the watch."

She looked across the console to the light again.

It was still _mauve_.

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(later, back with the 'brothers')

"You kissed her. You kissed Rose, and she kissed you back, and now she's all worried, and I bet that doesn't even bother you so much compared to the exhilarating feeling of finally getting the taste of her you've wanted for months," his brother ranted at John, although, strangely enough, it didn't sound all that accusatory.

He'd expected...well, not this.

He'd expected his brother to be angry, furious even at the treachery. To yell at him loudly enough to wake the entire village. Or not. Coming to think of it, he couldn't remember the last time James had yelled at anyone. He wasn't the kind to raise his voice, it hardly mattered for what reason. However, not yelling at somebody who deserved it, was still a far cry from sounding so amused.

"You're not... mad?"

"Mad, no... Why would I... well, maybe a little irritated. Yeah, a tad irritated. You are my... or think you are my brother after all. Never would've pegged you for a Casanova but then again, I don't think I would've acted much different, were our roles reversed, and I'd had half the chance. Mad, though, no. Not at all. Not one iota. Though..."

"Huh?", John wondered, not following his brothers peculiar string of thoughts. Most of what he said, didn't make any sense, but then, this was his brother after all.

"Though you'll have to keep your... infatuation with Rose to yourself until we're out of here. This school is hardly the place- or time, bloody old-fashioned morons- to be having an illicit affair, don't you think? If you could just wait 'til we're back home... I'm not making any sense to you, am I?"

"Uh...no."

James sighed, and took a sip of his tea. The cup made a barely audible 'clink' as he sat it back down. He looked at his so-called brother intently for a while, enough to make John shifting uncomfortably in his seat across from him. He raised a hand to John's cheek who sat straight in a heartbeat. James smiled, and cupped the poor man's other cheek with his hand before letting it fall again to squeeze John's hand. Well, fist really. The knuckles had gone white, and yet his 'brother's' hand still trembled upon the wooden desk. Squeezing reassuringly, he got him to open it up after a moment, and gripped it gently. He slowly stroked John's skin with his thumbs. There was a deer-caught-in-the-headlights look in his eyes, and yet, underneath it, something else. Something soft, and pliable, and wanton.

"Then what will you make of this?"

No sooner had he asked it, James had leaned across the table, and pressed his lips softly to John's trembling ones. Taking the bottom lip between his own, he sucked gently on it before letting it fall from his mouth, and going back to press their mouths together. His hand wandered from John's cheek to the nape of his neck, then upwards to grab a fistful of the other man's combed hair. John gasped, and James took immediate advantage of that. He let his tongue slip into the warm orifice to stroke languidly against his partner's.

John stood stiff as a poker. He couldn't believe this was happening. This had to be a dream, no, a nightmare. The strangest, craziest, most inappropriate nightmare he'd ever had. He must've fallen asleep during his conversation with his brother. That had to be it. Otherwise, his brother was right there, stocking his tongue down his throat. Well, not down his throat, but into his mouth to do things with his tongue. Weird things. Weird, sensual things.

He heard someone moan, and only belatedly realized by his James smug smirk against his lips that it had been his. His feet seemed to have moved on their own accord without him registering it, for he was now standing closely in front of his brother who was still kissing him. His arms had gone around James' middle without his permission as his tongue started to move against the invading appendage- to throw it out of his mouth as he told himself.

James didn't seem to be deterred. He hummed in satisfaction, actually. Then both his hands were suddenly on John's arse, lifting him up only to sit him down on his own desk again a moment later. Caressing their way down his thighs, they spread his legs apart, so James could step in between them as his hands moved back up. Only when he felt one of those hands cup him, did John realize how utterly hard he'd become, so lost in these unnatural feelings. Unnatural and wrong. He had to get away, and yet the last bit of fight left him when James decided to remove his hand from John's trousers and instead roll his hips against him in slow motion. John's head fell back.

"Oh dear God," he whispered heatedly.

"God's got nothing to do with it."

Indeed. This was an abomination. Wrong and unnatural. An anomaly. A sin.

But even that could not stop John from crashing his lips back upon James waiting mouth. Let him regret tomorrow, and live tonight!

Suddenly the door flew open.

"James, are you..."

Whatever Rose had wanted to say, it drowned in the image of her half-human Doctor dry-humping Professor John Smith. A little shocked, and very curious, she still had enough sanity left to quickly close the door and lock it from the inside. Turning back to the two of them, she could the James smirk and John horrified expression. Though he did not try to disentangle himself from his 'brother'. She couldn't help the smile, tongue and everything, as she stood in front of them, hands on her hips and a mischievous look in her eye.

"Are you having a party without me?"

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"We have landed, wife of mine. There's just a hint of Time Lord."

"Then we shall hunt, husband of mine. But first, we will need forms."

"Then we shall take them, mother of mine."

"Brother of mine is right. There are enough monkeys out there to host us, mother of mine. We only have to choose."

"And then we shall feast."

**End of chapter 4!**

**A/N: I know it's a bit short, this one, but I thought it would be a good point to leave off. **


	5. Desperation

_**Jealousy Is A Passion**_

**A/N: It's official now: I'm evil! **

I keep getting ideas to rewrite these episodes in all those delicious ways that torture our poor Doctor's human morality.

And I love every damn minute of it!

**Spoilers:** This is a post Journey's End fic, so there are spoilers up until there.

**Warning:**Cussing, bad language, whatever you want to call it, and... well, never forget it's rated M!

**Chapter 5: Desperation**

But even that could not stop John from crashing his lips back upon James waiting mouth. Let him regret tomorrow, and live tonight!

Suddenly the door flew open.

"James, are you..."

Whatever Rose had wanted to say, it drowned in the image of her half-human Doctor dry-humping Professor John Smith. A little shocked, and very curious, she still had enough sanity left to quickly close the door and lock it from the inside. Turning back to the two of them, she could the James smirk and John horrified expression. Though he did not try to disentangle himself from his 'brother'. She couldn't help the smile, tongue and everything, as she stood in front of them, hands on her hips and a mischievous look in her eye.

"Are you having a party without me?"

"R...R-rose...err... this isn't... we...I'm not..."

John Smith wasn't even able to string one sentence together, poor lad. James rolled his eyes at his 'brother's' feeble attempt at explaining the situation. Honestly, the man should just count his blessings that it wasn't the headmaster again who came through the door, or another pitiful, backwards soul from this pre-historic society. Meanwhile, Rose couldn't decide whether to be amused or irritated at the picture of them together like this- once more, that is. To be fair, the two Doctors had never had much interest in each other, and usually only engaged in snogging when she was around; for her enjoyment.

And, oh boy, did she enjoy it!

Still, today, at that moment, she'd been away in the TARDIS, so there had been no real reason for their little make-out session. Rose wondered what that meant for the two of them. Did this mean that they had always wanted this, always enjoyed it as much as she did? Did it mean that the TARDIS had made a slight mistake when creating the human alias of the Doctor, or that she had wanted a piece of revenge for him hitting her with a mallet. Or was it all 'James' who seemed to enjoy torturing the man the Doctor had become just a little too much?

Rose shook herself free from these thoughts. She would have enough time to think about all of this later. Much later when they were safe again. Then she'd tease them for this to within an inch of their lives, but for now she needed to focus on that green meteorite. They all needed to do that. She had to talk to James. Now. Even if it meant not getting a repeat of that mouth-watering show any time soon.

"Uh...James..."

That shut John's babbling up, finally.

"Can I talk to you for a moment?"

The man in question raised his eyebrows, obviously surprised at her change of attitude from playful to serious in less than a minute.

"Sure."

With one last glance at the shame-filled face of John Smith, and wondering whether or not he had pushed the man too far, he exited the study behind Rose. Without a word she led him to their room, sat down on their bed with a heavy sigh that told him they would not be continuing where they had left of an hour ago, and proceeded to pat the spot beside her. At this point his eyebrows disappeared under his hairline, but he calmly set down next to her anyway.

"I was in the TARDIS- and yes, I know I shouldn't go there too often while we're hiding, but I needed her."

He nodded.

"Anyway. I was watching that silly tape again, 'cause, you know, I miss 'im. Suddenly a single light caught my eye, and I ran outside to see a green meteorite shoot across the sky."

James still wasn't sure where this was going.

"Guess what colour that light was?"

"Uh...red?" Red. Please, let it be red.

Rose shook her head.

"Mauve."

James swore in the Time Lords' native tongue, and he did so eloquently. Standing up, he paced for a minute cussing, then made his way to the door in deadly silence. Rose's panicked question where he was going almost didn't register. He turned around when he had already reached the door, and put his hands on her shoulders. He looked at her gravely while she shook her head no, her eyes silently pleading with him to stay with her. He gave her a sad smile.

"It's okay. I'll just go investigate. I'll be back in no time."

With that, he was out the door, leaving Rose alone with the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach.

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The window creaked as Baines came back into the dormitory after curfew. His mates asked him where he'd been all this time, and he regaled them with a tale of one of the girls in town whom he'd spent the evening with, then went on about how pointless any conversation with a woman was as they were all 'blank slates' and superficial. He was being his usual charming self, and yet Timothy felt a strange vibe come from him. He was even scarier that he was as a normal bully. Something was off about him, Timothy could tell. He grabbed for the pocket watch. The feeling only increased when Baines started sniffing the air, and then brushing the questions away, claiming it to be a cold.

He hadn't had a cold when he assigned Tim his homework, and left to drink and smoke...

_'Not yet. Keep me hidden. No one must know.'_

He squeezed the watch tightly for a moment as if assuring himself that it was real, and talking to him. And all those images it had given him upon his first touch. A living mind trapped inside a watch until he opened it, and it didn't even want out. Or 'not yet' as it kept telling him every time his fingers brushed over the watch.

_'Beware.'_

'Of what?'

_'Of him! He is not all that he seems.'_

Timothy looked up. Baines was striding over to him, bridging the last few feet with a swing in his step.

"Well? Are you all done with my homework already, whimp?", he sneered at Timothy.

Quietly, the boy handed him a stack of papers. His fingers were tight around the watch while it remained oddly silent, and Baines- or not Baines- took the homework.

"This better be an A, or we'll have to have a little chat, Latimer", he warned, and strode away.

_'Keep away from him. Keep me hidden.'_

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John was furious with himself. How could that happen? His brother had kissed him. How could he have let that happen? And he had kissed him back? How could he have made that happen? No. What had gotten into him? Had he gone insane? Shame and humiliation grew inside his heart, spreading through his entire being, taking him over. What had he been thinking? He hadn't been thinking, actually. He had just acted out of some kind of instinct. Kissed his brother. What if Rose hadn't come in when she did? Would his brother and he be lying there naked in his bed, still kissing; coupling? Rose. It had been her he wanted for so long, but it had been his brother he kissed tonight-so shortly after he'd first kissed Rose. His brother. Their tongues had touched; battled for dominance. He could feel a jolt of pleasure reach his groin even now, at the mere recollection. It had been so much and yet not enough. He had wanted more, so much more. From James. James, who was not only another man but another member of his own family. His twin brother. He had sinned twice over. Now shame and guilt and lust all rolled together, mixing in one giant tidal wave, and everything seemed to drown in it.

He sure was.

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There was a storm out. James could barely see his own hand. He had trouble making his way to the barn where they kept the TARDIS. If he charged her up just enough to get the scanner to word, the chances of being detected were slim. After all, the Family was limited. As was their lifespan. Which is why they needed John- well, the Doctor. The other Doctor. They needed him to live and they needed him for power. If they got him, they would breed and conquer. A world for every child. Like a cancer they would spread to more and more cells; more and more planets, extinguishing the native population. Consuming them, or enslaving them, or a bit of both.

They'd live like gods.

That couldn't happen. The entire universe couldn't suffer because he wasn't able to protect his other self. Then again, if they found him at all, this entire village would suffer, because they sure as hell wouldn't hand John over to the Family, and the Family would stop at nothing to get their filthy hands on him. James had to find them first, assuming they were even there. Perhaps it really had been only a meteorite. However, why else would the TARDIS flash a mauve light if not for the Family's arrival? A malfunction, perhaps? Or had another bunch of hostile aliens arrived in this particular patch of Earth history? It wasn't so far off. Their little group attracted trouble after all.

And he'd take just about anything right now if it meant that the damned Family had not found their way to them. Raising an arm to shield himself against the wind and the rain, James marched on.

He'd almost reached the barn. He could practically smell the TARDIS. That was when something hit him over the head.

"_He will make a fine host, husband of mine"_, was the last thing he heard before he lost consciousness.

333333333333333333333333333

He entered without knocking, and was engulfed in Rose's arms, a pair of soft lips pressing desperately, punishing against his own. Startled at first, he overcame his surprise quickly enough. Smiling, smirking against her lips, he wrapped his arms around her, and kissed her back just as fiercely. The palms of her hands were holding his face as he guided his lips down the column of her neck. Irritated by the hindrance of her button-up dress that reached as far as the base of her throat, he ripped it open; buttons flying everywhere. He didn't care. Neither did Rose as it seemed, for she moaned, and rolled her head back to give him better access. He laid one hot open-mouth kiss upon her skin, then scraped her neck with his teeth, making her whimper.

Rose couldn't think straight. Couldn't even form a thought beyond wanting him with her, in her, NOW. She pushed his jacket over his shoulders, and removed his shirt with the same courtesy he had given her dress. She ripped it apart. Letting her hands roam over his exposed chest, she played with a nipple before bending down and capturing it with her mouth. She sucked, relishing in his gasp; in his hand tangling in her hair as the other one shoved her dress out of the way to take hold of a breast and squeeze.

Her hips bucked as he moved his thumb over her areola again and again. He pushed her away from his chest, and freed her of the remains of her dress and her underwear. He then rid himself of the rest of his clothes, and lifted one of her legs to go around his hips. She understood, wrapping them both around him as he held her: bucking into him as he carried her over to the bed. His fingers found her centre as soon as he had set her down, playing with her, fingering her opening with two, then three fingers. Pushing in and out in a steady, hard rhythm, he had her hips bucking into him again, fucking herself on his hand as he added a fourth finger and touched her pearl with his thumb. He leant over her to bit into a nipple, making her scream her pleasure out, loud enough that he had to use his free hand to shut her up or risk waking the entire school.

If this was what she got from his fingers, how would it be if he were to enter her with his cock...

Not wanting to waste time in finding out, he lazily stroked her back to arousal as he took himself into his other hand and pumped a few times. He let his thumb run over the tip of his dick, spreading the pre-cum leaking from it. Then he guided himself over her entrance.

Rose had barely come down from her high when she felt his finger moving inside her again, setting her aflame once more. He was good at that. They both were good at it. It was their favourite game. Taking her to the brink and pushing her over again and again. Or just taking her to the brink, leaving her hanging there until she calmed down again, and then starting to pleasure her once more. Often enough to make her nearly insane with want. His hand was suddenly gone from her mouth, and then she could hear a strange, slick noise. Raising her her, she saw he was jerking off in time with his strokes inside her pussy. The image was so arousing, she whimpered. She could feel the juices leaking from her. She wanted him inside her. She wanted his mouth on her, his tongue to replace his fingers, his dick to replace his tongue. She wanted him to go down on her with his usual ravenous appetite about as much as she wanted him to fuck her brains out. Just as she was playing out both fantasies in her mind, trying to decide which one it should be, she felt the tip of his member at her opening, and remembered why they could have neither.

In one quick motion, she rolled them over.

"You know, we can't. Not while... Not this time of the months. It's...gross."

"I don't care", he rasped. "I want you."

Rose almost had to blink back tears at how sweet he was. Or maybe he was really just horny, but Rose was a romantic at heart, so that assumption just wouldn't do.

"Don't worry. I'll take good care of you", she purred seductively. "After all, I still owe you for telling the headmaster about... you know."

Kissing him fiercely, she let her hand ghost over his chest, down his side, and over his hip, down his leg. Then she sneaked her hand to the inside of his thigh, just as she kissed his Adam's Apple. She slowly ran her fingertips up towards his groin, tortuously slowly. Her mouth reached his nipple again, and his breathing got heavier. Dragging her tongue over it, she used her fingers to innocently tweak the other one, and was rewarded with a buck of his hips. In one swift motion, she cupped his manhood in her hand, earning herself another wild buck. With ever lick of her tongue, every tweak of his nipple, her hand moved up and down, coercing him into a steady rhythm of thrusting upwards into her body. It was so good, but not what he wanted. He wanted his cock sliding in and out of her body, becoming coated in her juices-even if they were mixed with her blood. Her cycle didn't matter to him, he didn't think her gross.

He began squirming to get some leverage, turn them over and thrust himself inside her before she could protest. As if Rose had read his thoughts-not that they were very difficult to guess- she moved herself lower on him, leaving a wet trail down his body. Keeping his hips down as best she could, she began licking him from base tip. Using what little movement he was allowed, he rubbed his cock against her tongue and lips. Then her hand strayed to his balls, cupping them. In the same moment, she took the tip of his erection into her mouth, licking the cum away. And sucked.

He bucked.

She let him. She took him in her mouth as completely as she could, moving up and down in time with his steady thrusts. Now that he'd been allowed into her body, albeit a different way than he had been thinking about, maintaining control, keeping a slow, steady rhythm instead of just fucking her for all he was worth, was possibly the most difficult thing he'd ever done. The sensations, these new, previously unknown sensations were overwhelming. Now he understood why humans liked to fornicate so much, using coarse language while at it. It gave it all a whole new layer of thrill...

**End of chapter 5!**

**A/N: Why humans like to fornicate so much? Hmm. Who have I sent to bed Rose, I wonder. What do you think? **


	6. Altercation

_**Jealousy Is A Passion**_

**A/N: It's official now: I'm evil! **

I keep getting ideas to rewrite these episodes in all those delicious ways that torture our poor Doctor's human morality.

And I love every damn minute of it!

**Spoilers:** This is a post Journey's End fic, so there are spoilers up until there.

**Warning:**

**Previously:**

_He began squirming to get some leverage, turn them over and thrust himself inside her before she could protest. As if Rose had read his thoughts-not that they were very difficult to guess- she moved herself lower on him, leaving a wet trail down his body. Keeping his hips down as best she could, she began licking him from base tip. Using what little movement he was allowed, he rubbed his cock against her tongue and lips. Then her hand strayed to his balls, cupping them. In the same moment, she took the tip of his erection into her mouth, licking the cum away. And sucked._

_He bucked._

_She let him. She took him in her mouth as completely as she could, moving up and down in time with his steady thrusts. Now that he'd been allowed into her body, albeit a different way than he had been thinking about, maintaining control, keeping a slow, steady rhythm instead of just fucking her for all he was worth, was possibly the most difficult thing he'd ever done. The sensations, these new, previously unknown sensations were overwhelming. Now he understood why humans liked to fornicate so much, using coarse language while at it. It gave it all a whole new layer of thrill..._

**Chapter 6: Altercation**

She awoke to a wandering male hand stilling tensely just above her breast, brushing across her nipple with the palm, and screams echoing through the hallways of the school. She did not notice the panicked look her bedmate cast her way as she pushed the covers aside and stood, heading for the closet. Now was not the time for century-approved dress. She grabbed a pair of jeans, a tee-shirt, sneakers, and her bra from the floor, and went about getting dressed as quickly and as quietly as possible. Her lover followed her example without a word but when she looked up to see if he was ready, his movements were slow, almost sluggish. He was biting his bottom lip guiltily.

She frowned.

What had he to be look so guilty about? Surely he wasn't regretting what they had gotten up to in the previous hour or so. Nobody could've known that there would be an attack on the school. They were in a time of piece, and the institution was in the middle of nowhere. How could the Family have found them here, and so quickly. Rose would slap herself if she could. She had seen the flashing little light, and instead of asking questions and possibly making plans upon his return, she just couldn't wait to get a piece of him. She had been so worried when it took him so long, and then the storm... She should have never let him go alone. She felt nauseated at the thought, and then she had just jumped him. Maybe he had found something, and they could've stopped this from ever happening if she hadn't been so god damn horny!

But if he'd had something important so say, wouldn't he have stopped her? What with that logical Time Lord brain of his being so above these carnal cravings? Or was that human bit of him stronger in the end? Damn it, she shouldn't have jumped his bones so quickly, she cursed herself as a loud 'bang'-sound and more screams reached her ears from below. The Family-or whoever this was-had probably gathered everyone together, and was taking them apart one by one to find the Doctor.

The Doctor!

"Shit!", she cursed. "John..."

As quietly as she could, she opened the door and ran across to John's study. Upon entering, she found the light to be on, the tea can and the two cups still resting on the desk, and all it's furniture still there, but to be otherwise empty. No sign of John. She mumbled another curse as tears pricked at her eyes at the thought of them holding him captive. Maybe he had gone down to get something to eat, and they'd found him. Maybe that's why thy hadn't searched through the school; because they already had what they came for, and every other human that stumbled upon them was just sports!

At this notion, anger overwhelmed her, pushing away the hurt and the fear. Rose squared her shoulders. Turning around, she saw James giving her an odd look, she couldn't quite place it. Guilt, and shame, and something else. Grabbing his head she slanted her lips over his in a furious kiss that lasted only for a couple of seconds, then she let go of him, motioning him to follow her. They sneaked to the end of the hallway and down the stairs, careful not to make any sound that could alert the intruders to their presence, and strained their ears to hear something as the muffled voices grew louder. Apparently the action was happening in a classroom. Turning around, she motioned for him to be quiet once more, and to wait where he was. There was no sense in them both getting caught, she thought as she approached the door. It was slightly ajar, so she took a look. She could see the Matron, the headmaster, Tim, and some of the other boys opposite Baines who was holding a gun. Between them was a smoking layer of ashes lying on the floor. Rose could only guess, shuddering, who that had been earlier in the night.

She opened the door a little wider and gasped...

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(earlier in the classroom)

The 'Family of Blood', as they called themselves, had gathered a little group of school's inhabitants in one of the classrooms, thinking, apparently, to use them as leverage against the headmaster in their quest to find a doctor. He was quite happy to help them, of course. They really did need a professional's attention, also not quite the kind of doctor they were thinking about, he guessed. So far, though, all his attempts to redirect them to Doctor Well in town, where they could alert the police ad have these poor people restrained had failed. For all their want of a doctor, they didn't want to hear a word of what he told them.

They were mad.

"I'm quite willing to help, Mr. Baines. Now if you could just put down your weapons, then we could all go see Doctor Well immediately."

Baines just scoffed.

"I don't understand what he sees in these buffoons. They are such a bunch of stupid apes! We don't want 'a' doctor, we want 'the Doctor'," he bit out through gritted teeth.

"I'm sure, Doctor Well will be perfectly capable," the headmaster tried once more, only to be interrupted again. This time, though, it was his own assistant to step forward and, putting a hand on his arm, halt his speech. The man's face was contorted in anger, his firm, straight stance added a layer of authority to his person.

"Don't waste your breath, sir. Mr. Baines and Mr. Smith, and the girls have obviously gone mad. Talking will not be our salvation. They need a firm hand now, wouldn't you agree, sir?", he asked grimly.

Mr. Baines raised an eyebrow. That was all the warning anyone of them got before he shot the man with that strange weapon of his, and turned him to dust. A shriek came from the Matron, and even the boys gave a surprised yelp. Only Latimer stayed entirely quiet with only a look of disdain on his face and clutching a fob watch in his hand. What a strange boy. Perhaps the shock was too much for him...

"What do you know," Baines asked in a sneering voice, "of history? What do you know of 1914?"

"What are you talking about?", the headmaster asked.

"Next year, there will be war. A war like none before it, and the entire world will be cast in shadows and fire and smoke. All your boys, headmaster, you've trained them so meticulously, all your boys will be washed away in a sea of their own blood. Do you think they are ready? Do you think they will thank you for teaching them how to fight- or rather, how to die?"

The headmaster grunted.

"I did only my duty, and I would do it again. And you're mad, Mr. Baines. You're clearly drivelling."

He fired a shot at the ceiling.

"I can't be bothered with your tiny brain any more, sir. We need a Time Lord," he said.

"I don't know what you're talking about!"

"Then you're of no use to us."

Baines pointed the strange gun at him, an almost joyful little smirk on his face as he readied himself to fire. He raised his other hand towards the headmaster, and waved goodbye. But before he could pull the trigger, there was a gasp from the door that had everyone turn around. Before anyone could react Baines and Mr. Smith had crossed over. Mr. Smith grabbed for the person outside, who turned out to be his wife- or his sister-in-law, the headmaster could quite tell. Baines moved a little further, and came back shortly with a struggling Mr. Smith- the other one, that is. If the situation hadn't been so dire, the headmaster might have complained about the headache that was forming under his skull. These three had always been a strange trio but now things had just gotten even stranger, and more dangerous, and somehow it didn't surprise him that all three of them were involved, albeit apparently on different sides.

Ah, he really didn't have time for this headache right now!

"Look what the cat dragged in," one of the Mr. Smiths, the one holding Mrs. Smith, said, winking at her.

The young woman turned to the other one, incredulously.

"John?"

'John' Smith peeped pathetically as Mrs. Smith mouthed 'oh my god' at him. Baines looked from one to the other, then leaned forward and sniffed Mrs Smith's hair. She gave him a rather indignant 'OI!' that didn't, however, stop him from sniffing her again. Then he took another strange little machine out of his pocket, and let the green light it emanated travel up and down her body. Mrs. Smith took another glance at 'John' Smith, then at her husband, and, as if it had been a sign, the man let her go just as she kicked the little metal boy out of Baines' hand and him in the gut.

"OUT! Out! Everyone, out!", 'James' Smith shouted at them. The headmaster meant to protest, meant to say that now was the right time to take them out, but before he could utter a word, he had already been dragged out of the classroom, and out of the school by Mrs. Smith while her husband was locking Baines and the others in the classroom and sounding the alarm bell. In record time the students were out of the school and ordered to run and warn the village people. The headmaster was quite indignant himself now that Mr. and Mrs. Smith (no pun intended) had taken over control, but, again, before he could say anything, they had already disappeared to God only knew where, along with Mr. John Smith.

Stupid headache.

333333333333333333333333333

They ran down the street and into the barn and into the TARDIS without John Smith protesting once. He was to guilt-ridden to even look Rose or James in the eye, and at the very latest when the explosions started, he was sure everywhere was better than where they where standing out in the open. When he saw the little blue box, recognition filtered through his mind as well as the thought that they would never fit in there, but it all passed as quickly as it had come. And then he was inside, and there was more space than in his entire study, and that was Just. Not. Possible!

"What?"

He ran outside again, and then around and around the little box for what seemed to be endless minutes. Meanwhile, Rose was trying very hard to get him to come back inside, especially when the scarecrows started advancing mechanically, as if they had just noticed them. John saw them too, but sin ce scarecrows couldn't move, and little blue boxes couldn't be bigger on the inside, this had to be one of his fantastic dreams. Even though he felt quite himself, and not the mysterious Doctor.

"This is incredible," he shouted delighted, knowing there was no real danger and no explosions happening outside.

"John, get inside."

"Oh, but Rose. This is incredible. A fantastic dream!"

"John, this isn't..." she started out, but then sighed. "Well, wouldn't it be even more fantastic, if you came onboard your magic carpet. That's what the Doctor would do, right? Preferably before the scarecrows do reach you. Slow as they are, they are progressing."

There was a certain urgency in her voice, and the scarecrows really were quite close now. With a gleeful smile, he ran inside, and she slammed the door shut right after him. Now that there was nothing more to the scarecrows than the harmless, futile scratching of their straw-hands on the TARDIS door, she heaved a sigh of relieve. Too soon it seemed as the whole spaceship suddenly shook, making all three of them tumble to the floor, and their ears ring with a loud 'crash'. Rose shook her head to get the ringing out of it, then sat up. Or tried to. There was something on top of her, giving her a sheepish, guilty smile.

"Listen, Rose...uhm..."

Saved by the knock on the door.

**End of chapter 6!**

**A/N: Whoa, I'm not sure I quite followed my own writing. I wanted it to seem quick-paced, but now I'm not sure if it isn't bordering more on 'rushing'. Please tell me. **


	7. All Good Things

_**Jealousy Is A Passion**_

**Previously:**

"_This is incredible," he shouted delighted, knowing there was no real danger and no explosions happening outside._

"_John, get inside."_

"_Oh, but Rose. This is incredible. A fantastic dream!"_

"_John, this isn't..." she started out, but then sighed. "Well, wouldn't it be even more fantastic, if you came onboard your magic carpet. That's what the Doctor would do, right? Preferably before the scarecrows do reach you. Slow as they are, they are progressing."_

_There was a certain urgency in her voice, and the scarecrows really were quite close now. With a gleeful smile, he ran inside, and she slammed the door shut right after him. Now that there was nothing more to the scarecrows than the harmless, futile scratching of their straw-hands on the TARDIS door, she heaved a sigh of relieve. Too soon it seemed as the whole spaceship suddenly shook, making all three of them tumble to the floor, and their ears ring with a loud 'crash'. Rose shook her head to get the ringing out of it, then sat up. Or tried to. There was something on top of her, giving her a sheepish, guilty smile._

"_Listen, Rose...uhm..."_

_Saved by the knock on the door_.

**Epilogue: All Good Things...**

They struggled to get up for a moment until James helpfully lifted his 'brother' off of his wife. He patted John on the chest, though for some reason the man couldn't look him directly in the eyes and Rose was blushing several shades of red, looking a little embarrassed there. James, naturally, put two and two together getting sex, and the grin that was henceforth plastered on his face would've made Captain Jack proud.

"Right then," he said, cheerfully as he bounded over to the door. "Let's not keep our new neighbour or neighbours waiting!"

"Do you really think that's a good idea?", Rose whispered, unsure.

"Take it from someone who knows: the bad guys don't knock!"

And with that, he quickly opened the door, and pulled the figure standing outside into the TARDIS control room, then slammed the door right into the scarecrows ugly faces, and turned the key in the lock. Shaking his head as if trying to clear some sort of daze away was Timothy Latimer, now standing in front of the central column with wonder in his eyes. As the ship gave a low, lazy hum, he stepped forward to put his hand against the coral as if to prove to himself that this was really real. The TARDIS made another sleepy sound, and Timothy took a couple of steps away to twirl on the spot to see the whole thing.

"This is... exactly as in the images. I thought I was going mad, but this is actually... This is incredible," he breathed to no one in particular.

James came closer, putting his hands on the young boy's shoulders to get him back into the real world.

"I think you have something for my brother."

"Me?", John squeaked.

Timothy nodded, and took something out of his pocket. He held it out for everyone to see. James offered him a knowing smile, Rose gasped in astonishment at finding the fob watch in the child's hand, and John, though not recognizing the watch itself, realized that it was his, and started ranting about how he was _so_ _very_ disappointed in Mr. Latimer for stealing his old watch.

"I didn't steal it. It chose me to take it away... out of danger. It called me. It wanted me to keep it safe for you... until the right moment when you would need it again," Timothy explained calmly to the erratic man.

"Now that is just... _preposterous. _That's..."

"True," James finished for him, taking the fob watch and pressing it into John's hand before the man could even protest.

"It's asleep," John suddenly whispered, turning the watch over in his hand a couple of times. "It wants to be held. It wants to be opened... He wants out."

"And you've got to let him,"Rose said, making John's head snap into her direction, a desperate look on his face.

"And what about me? I know what I did to you... with you... but surely I don't deserve to die for it! I don't want to die. I don't want to leave you..."

"We know," James replied.

"And you... Are you two always... like that?", John squeaked, referring to the incident in his office, which got a smug smile out of James, a flushing face from Rose and painted nothing but absolute confusion onto Timothy's face.

"Nope. First time. Though I think it's worth investigating further. At least once in a while- to make Rose flush so prettily, don't you agree?", James admitted, smirking. This had John blush bright scarlet, yet no protest came out of his mouth.

"I... I don't..."

Rose gave him a sympathetic look, and walked over to him. She enveloped him in a tight hug. For a few silent seconds neither of them moved, then Rose left his embrace, and put her hand over his. Both of them gasped as the watch showed them their _potential._ They could have such a life together. A house with a picket fence and a mortgage, a marriage, and children and grandchildren running around. A life full of laughs and smiles, and tears and heartbreak, and _everything_ in between until they had grown old together.

"Did you see that?"

Rose nodded.

"That's what he wants: together forever, a life with me- us," she added in regards to James, "a normal life, everything that humans have, and it scares him half to death! But, for all our adventures, we could never have a life like that. Especially not with two World Wars looming over us."

John smiled sadly.

"I know. Living a life, day after day, the one adventure we can never have." His tone was melancholy as he continued to look down at the watch. "He yearns for your touch, you know? Even now I can feel him shifting inside the watch. Even asleep, he feels your presence, your closeness. Wants to be held by you, wants to slip out of this watch and into your heart and make himself comfy there."

Rose smiled her most brilliant smile yet.

"He already is. As is James." She lifted his head, made him look at her. "As are you. It's like you're three sides of a coin..." She laughed at her faulty comparison. "and I love you, all of you, and I wish I could live this life with you- as much as I always want to live in the TARDIS, paradoxical as that is, but..."

"But this isn't how it's meant to be."

He grabbed her, and hugged her to him fiercely. How he wished he could stay. Stay and make a home with her. A family. A big, happy family, but she, no, they already had that. The Doctors, Rose, and their band of merry men... and women were one big, happy, and possibly slightly dysfunctional family. It's ironic how the memories of his other life seem to come back even before opening the watch. Perhaps it was the Doctor's closeness, the fact that he was right there in John's hand. Whatever the reason, he knew what he must do. He still didn't want to die, and it tore at his heart to leave her, but he had started hearing crashes outside a couple of minutes ago. The Family was trying to lure him out of the TARDIS, and they were laying waste to the entire village for this purpose. All those people. They needed the Doctor. Needed his strength, and his wisdom. Even if he had to die for it.

All good things must come to an end.

And so, before he could come back to his senses and bail, he opened the watch in his hand, and everything went golden. And it was warm.

And then the TARDIS lurched into action.

"And I can't believe you kissed me, James!"

333333333333333333

Alright. So he hadn't been planning to come face to face with a gun on his first step inside the ship, but really, he should've known those scarecrow-thingies weren't just for decoration. Apparently they had reported the departure of the TARDIS.

"We know that you flew your ship. Only the Doctor can fly the TARDIS."

"No, no, please. It was that man, James, who flew that strange machine. I had nothing to do with this," he whimpered as he stumbled through their machine. "Please, I came to bring you this. Just stop. Stop destroying the village, _please_."

In a heartbeat the Son, putting away his gun, had snatched the fob watch from his hand, and thrown him halfway across the ship. Upon landing, some levers were flipped. The Family, meanwhile, had opened the watch to find nothing, and of course, the charade being moot at that point, he admitted to having already taken back his whole Time Lord spirit. Then, without another word, he ran outside, the Family hot on his heels. The Doctor turned around to face them only as he joined Rose and James at a safe distance away from the exploding ship, his face grim.

The Family huddled together. They knew it was over-and now came his fury...

"What now, Doctor?", Rose asked.

He dared not look at her as he answered.

"You wanted to live forever, _now_ I will make sure that you will."

Rose felt a little queasy at the tone in which he said that. Eerily calm. Furious. Murderous.

"Are you sure? That doesn't sound like you at all. I mean," she amended, " I know you're angry, and, believe me, I understand. I have to put up conscious effort not to claw their eyes out, but... this isn't you. It can't be you. It mustn't."

The Doctor growled at the whole situation, and Rose hugged his arm to her body.

"I'm not feeling very lenient today. I'm partially responsible for the village's destruction, too, because I came here, but... that they used this... to... I was being kind. I wanted them to live out their lives, normally. Happily, if they could, and they threw it all right back at me! I. Am. _So. Angry_, I wouldn't mind throwing them down the nearest black hole. I might actually."

The Family flinched at this, and cowered before his anger.

"No, " James said, suddenly. "You won't. You wouldn't wish that on anyone."

The Doctor ran a hand through his messy locks.

"Do you have a better idea?", he asked, exasperated.

"As a matter of fact, I do. We'll take them to the Equitus Space Prison. I've already talked to the guys there and send the Family's files and all the proof over while you were on their ship. They can spend the rest of their lives gardening over there."

33333333333333333333333333

(a couple of days later, on Pen Haxico II)

"So,", Rose started of matter-of-factly, as she rubbed the suncream into her skin, "James escaped the Family's clutch, 'cause he's got a Time Lord brain that's hard to overpower, and there are giant space stations that function as space-based prisons in the middle between two galaxies?"

The Doctor got up, and took the bottle from her, silently offering to do her back. He applied a generous amount of the perfume-free lotion onto his right hand, and, once he'd moved her hair out of the way, started to gently spread it onto her shoulders first before going lower, caressing her soft skin. Rose couldn't help the little moan that escaped her lips as his hands passed teasingly under the strap of her bikini top.

"Pretty much", the Doctor whispered huskily into her ear. "It's the perfect prison. Even if you do get out of your cell, and even if you manage to get out of the station, you're still several thousand light-years away from the nearest habitable planet. They have their own oxygen factory- that's a forest, by the way- so nobody needs to refill the oxygen tanks, so nobody can hide in the supply ships. And visitors are only allowed to come in police transporters, and are heavily guarded, and searched several times over. Arriving police officers with prisoners or a transferring order are profusely checked before they so much as get past the entrance hall."

"Except for you," Rose threw in.

"Yes, well... I'm kinda an authority upon myself. Last of the Time Lords, and all," he replied, nibbling on her ear.

"Bit pompous, isn't he?" James asked as he came back with their cones and sat down in front of Rose, close enough for her to feel his breath on her face. Then he looked over at the Time Lord in question. "Aren't you glad you followed my advice?"

The Doctor sighed.

"Maybe. A little." A quirky smile and a kiss later, James was being chased up and down the beach by the Doctor.

**End of the Epilogue!**

**A/N: Well. This is it. I know I changed a quite brilliant ending into something that is probably not nearly as satisfying, considering what the Family did, but I thought this was a bit more like the Doctor. Especially with Rose still around. And his DonnaDoctor.**

**Please don't hate me! **


End file.
